True North (A McRoll in the REAL World Story)
by ilna
Summary: Steve and Catherine recall their first Christmas together and a very special gift. Part 9 of the second annual Holiday REAL World McRollathon.


**Notes:** Huge thanks to Mari and Sammy, as always, for the amazing support and feedback. That "e" key sure has been getting a workout lately :-)

Readers and REAL McRollers – Thank you for your incredible support with each and every story. It truly does mean so much.

I know many of you like the flashback stories – this one is kind of a double flashback ;-)

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _True North (A McRoll in the REAL World Story)_

Standing in front of the dresser in their bedroom, Catherine reached up to put the necklace with Joan's sea glass around her neck.

"Here," Steve said, stepping up behind her and taking the ends of the chain from her hands.

She smiled and pulled her hair up and to the side so he could attach the clasp. "Thank you."

Smoothing his hands over her upper back and down her arms, he bent to press a kiss to the juncture of her neck and shoulder as she let her hair drop.

Her hands went to the open black box on top of the dresser, straightening the circular object inside. He propped his chin over her shoulder and watched as she drew a finger along the silver surface, both thinking of the Christmas many years ago when it had first appeared.

 _ **December 23, 1999**_

 _Steve got out of a cab in front of the Best Western in Annapolis, bag over his shoulder. He paid the fare, wished the driver happy holidays, and stepped back, hitching his bag higher as the cab drove away into the snowy evening._

 _The sound of automatic doors opening was quickly followed by a shout._

" _Steve!"_

 _A broad smile lit his face as he saw Catherine running through the lobby doors toward him. He dropped his bag to the ground to catch her as she launched herself at him, the impact taking him back a couple steps. Before he could speak she was kissing him thoroughly._

 _After a long moment he pulled back and grinned, keeping his arms tight around her waist._

" _What?" he teased. "You'd think we haven't seen each other for . . . months or somethin'."_

" _Three months, three weeks, and three days."_

" _Show off," he said with a smirk, but his eyes were soft as he looked at her. "You don't know the hours?"_

 _Catherine squinted in thought and started to speak, but he cut her off with another kiss._

" _Come on," she said, when they broke apart. "Let's get inside."_

" _Yeah," he said, releasing her. "Let me grab my bag."_

 _As he bent to retrieve it, she scooped up a mitten full of snow and pushed it down the back of his collar._

" _What the–" he started._

" _Gotcha."_

" _Cath!" he cried as he straightened, the cold soaking down his back._

 _She shrugged, grinning. "Couldn't resist."_

 _He shook his collar, trying to get the snow out and looked at her Cheshire-size smile. "Oh, you're gonna pay for that, Rollins."_

 _He took off after her, and she ran toward the lawn with a laugh, scooping up more snow and tossing hastily formed snowballs back in his direction. He ducked her throws but it slowed him down, and she was able to land a few._

 _Catching her by the waist, he spun her back toward him. She immediately swept a leg around the back of his knees and toppled them to the ground. They rolled around, laughing playfully, until she finally pinned him on his back and straddled his waist, her face bright from the exertion._

 _He grinned up at her, breathing heavily. "That's gotta be the most . . . unique greeting I've ever received."_

" _Yeah?"_

" _Yeah."_

 _She motioned to their current position and the fact that he was definitely covered in more snow than she was. "I think I won."_

" _Won?" he asked incredulously. "That wasn't a fair fight, you ambushed me."_

" _I still won," she insisted, unrepentant._

 _He shifted beneath her, his bare hands sliding to her waist. "I dunno . . . I'm pretty happy with how this turned out . . ."_

 _She bit her lower lip as she looked down at him with an eager smile. "Well, now we need to get out of these wet clothes."_

" _I like the way you think," he said, his eyes dancing. "Lead the way."_

 _She stood and offered him a hand up. They brushed off what snow they could as they walked back toward the hotel. He jogged over to retrieve his bag, and they headed inside, nodding to the staff at the reception desk who eyed the pair curiously._

 _They took the stairs to the second floor, and Catherine led him down the hall._

" _It's a small room," she said. "Queen-size bed. That's all they had. And that was a cancellation so we were lucky to get it."_

 _He shrugged. "Still bigger than my rack," he said as they stopped at room 215. "Besides, it's not the size of the room that matters . . . it's who's in it."_

 _She smiled at him, touched even as she licked her lips in anticipation._

 _Inserting the key card in the lock, she opened the door after it flashed green. Once inside, he let his bag slide off his arm and moved to kiss her again, but she put a hand to his chest to stop him._

" _Get out of those wet clothes, sailor," she said, her eyes drifting over him briefly. "I'll be right out."_

 _Stepping away, she disappeared into the bathroom._

 _He watched the door close, then ran a hand through his hair, feeling where it was wet from the snow. Bending to take off his boots, he pushed them against the wall and quickly stripped out of his wet coat and pants. Snow fell to the carpet as he shook his shirt, and he pulled it over his head, calling out, "You know, you didn't need to shove snow down my back to get me out of my clothes. I was plannin' to do that anyway."_

 _The bathroom door clicked open, and Catherine answered, "I was just being . . . expedient."_

 _He looked over to see her standing in the doorway in just her bra and panties. They were red this time, he noted, instead of the black he remembered so vividly from their first night together._

 _Straightening fully, he smiled. "This is familiar."_

 _Her own smile softened. "Maybe not as familiar as we'd like."_

" _No," he said, his own features softening in agreement._

 _She tilted her head. "But that's the life," she said simply, acceptance of the fact mixed with a hint of sadness but not regret._

" _Yeah."_

 _Stepping toward him, she took his arms and gently steered him back a few feet to sit on the bed. She climbed into his lap, her knees on either side of him, and cradled his face._

" _Now what were you saying about not needing to shove snow down your back . . ."_

" _Nothin'," he said, one hand seeking the smooth skin of her torso as the other reached up through the curtain of her hair to cup her cheek. "Absolutely nothin'." His voice was a whisper against her skin as he brought her face to his for a deep kiss._

* * *

 _Catherine woke late the next morning and stretched one arm over her head._

 _Beside her, Steve inhaled, stirring at her movement. He turned on his side and blinked a few times before focusing on her, a smile spreading over his face._

 _"Morning," he said._

 _She returned his smile. "Good morning."_

 _"Merry Christmas Eve."_

 _She chuckled. "Merry Christmas Eve."_

 _He shifted the arm beneath his head over and reached for her hand on the pillow, loosely lacing their fingers together and stroking his thumb over the back of her hand._

 _"How'd you sleep?" he asked._

 _"Good. You?"_

 _"Better than I have in months," he admitted._

 _Her breath caught at his meaning, and she noticed how his eyes flicked away as he swallowed._

 _Deciding to lighten the moment, her eyes sparkled impishly. "Must have been the snowball fight."_

 _There was a touch of relief in his smile. "Must have been." Moving forward, he pressed his lips to hers lightly, moaning when she deepened the kiss. He broke from her only to trail his lips over her jaw and down her neck. "What do you want to do today?" he asked against her skin._

 _"We're doing it," she said breathlessly and brought his face up to kiss him again._

 _"You want food?" he asked the next time they broke apart._

 _"Eventually," she said, chasing his lips and sealing their mouths in another kiss._

 _After a long moment, he pulled back enough to say, "I got you a Christmas present."_

 _"Later," she breathed, running a hand up his chest to his shoulder and pulling him back down. "Right now there's something else I want."_

 _He smiled into the kiss, the sheet sliding down as he moved over her and guided her leg around his hip._

 _"What a coincidence," he murmured against her lips. "Me, too."_

 _Hours later they had showered, ordered and eaten room service, and were lounging comfortably together on the queen-sized bed, catching up on the last few months, he at sea and she in her last year at the Academy._

 _The curtain was open so they could see the light snow falling outside the window._

 _"White Christmas," she said softly, lying against his chest as they sat propped up by pillows and the headboard._

 _"Yeah," he matched her tone, lightly combing his fingers through her hair. "I haven't had many of those. Just a couple here in Annapolis."_

 _She nodded, her fingers finding his against his abdomen. "I've had a few. Depending on where Dad was stationed. Or if we went to visit Gram in Chicago. Then it was almost a guarantee."_

 _He squeezed her fingers. "You ready for your present?"_

 _She looked up at him. "You don't want to wait till tomorrow?"_

 _He shrugged. "We can if you want."_

 _"No, let's do it," she said, sitting up. "It's just too bad there's no tree."_

" _Yeah."_

" _There's one down in the lobby, but . . ." She looked down and made a face. "That would mean getting dressed and leaving the room and who wants that?"_

 _He chuckled. "Who wants that?" he echoed, swinging his feet to the floor and getting up._

 _As he walked toward his bag, she said, "You didn't have to get me anything, Steve. Having you here is the best gift I could have asked for."_

 _He dug around in his bag and pulled out a small box. Turning back to her, he smiled and said, "When you told me you were staying in Annapolis for the holiday, I called in every favor I could and then some to get the four days." He smiled. "Worth it." He nodded to her with a knowing look. "And you didn't have to get me anything either, but I'm sure I saw a little box with my name on it over there."_

 _Smiling, she crawled to the foot of the bed and reached over to the dresser to grab the small wrapped box from beside her own bag._

 _She turned around and crossed her legs as he sat on the bed again, holding out her gift._

" _I'm sorry it's not wrapped," he said with a little wince._

 _She shook her head, turning the box in her hand to face the right direction._

" _I'm kinda new at this," he said. "But . . . I saw it when we were docked in Rota. There's this market set up outside the main gate every Wednesday. A couple buddies and I were walking through on our way to town and . . ." His voice trailed off as she opened the lid of the box to reveal a small vintage pocket mirror, a delicately engraved "C" on the silver cover. "It had the 'C' on it already, and I just . . . I mean, you're the least vain person I know, but somehow it . . . seemed to fit you."_

" _My mom has one like this," Catherine said quietly, staring at it._

" _She does?"_

" _I thinks she still has it." She turned it over and over in her hands. "When I was little, she'd let me take my nap in her and my dad's room, but sometimes instead of sleeping, I'd go through all the things in her jewelry box. She had an old mirror like this, with a rose pattern. I liked the feel of it in my hand. Smooth on one side, patterned on the other." She ran her fingers over the top of the mirror in her hand. Looking up at him, she smiled. "I love it. Thank you," she said sincerely, raising a hand to his cheek and leaning over to kiss him._

 _He sat back, a pleased smile on his face._

 _Setting the mirror gently on the bed, she handed him his gift, wrapped in shiny red paper with a To: Steve, From: Catherine tag on it._

 _She watched as he slid a finger under the edge of the paper to break the tape and slowly unwrapped it. Putting the paper aside, he turned the black box and opened it. A silver compass lay inside._

" _Wow," he said, surprised, opening the lid to look at the face. "That's a really nice compass."_

 _She took a deep breath and put a hand on his where it held the box._

" _I know there have been times in your life when . . . it's been hard to find direction," she said quietly._

 _He looked down, not meeting her eyes._

" _Or you've felt that the direction wasn't one you chose," she continued._

 _She paused for a moment, then tightened her fingers on his wrist._

" _This way you'll always find north," she said, and he looked at her. "And you'll remember there's at least one person in your corner. Whichever direction you go."_

 _He took a deep breath, looking back at compass, and swallowed hard._

 _She watched him, waiting for him to speak._

 _Finally, he set the box down between them and reached for her. Holding her face gently, he kissed her deeply._

" _Thank you, Catherine," he whispered. "That means . . ." He swallowed again and nodded once. "I'll remember that."_

* * *

 _Christmas morning dawned, and Steve was the first to wake. His eyes fell on the open box on the bedside table, and Catherine's words from the day before echoed in his mind. After staring at the compass for a long moment, he turned to look at her. His gaze traveled over her features, her eyes still closed in sleep, and he let out a slow breath, grateful she was there beside him, though he didn't have the words to tell her just how grateful he really was._

 _Her hands were curled by her cheek, and he reached over to lightly trace her palm, bringing her slowly awake. His fingers slid between hers, and she tightened her hold even before she opened her eyes._

 _She smiled softly at him. "Hi."_

" _Hi," he said, his voice slightly roughened with emotion._

 _She seemed to sense his mood and reached up with her other hand to gently stroke his jaw in a soothing gesture._

" _I know, I need to shave," he said quietly, the corner of his mouth lifting, thankful for the distraction._

" _No, I like it," she said with a little smile. "I don't get to see it often."_

 _He smiled softly, leaning down to kiss her._

 _They showered together, taking their time with slow kisses and languid caresses as they washed each other thoroughly._

 _When they finally emerged, the mirror was fogged up despite the fan running._

 _Catherine smiled to see it as she wrapped a towel around herself. "Guess that shower went a little long," she said._

 _He knotted a towel around his waist and looked up to follow her gaze. He smiled. "Yeah."_

 _He stepped behind her at the sink, wrapping an arm around her chest and curling his hand around her opposite shoulder. Leaning forward, he drew a Christmas tree in the fog on the mirror._

 _"How's that?" he asked when he finished, wrapping his other arm around her as well._

 _She raised her hands to his forearms and smiled. "Perfect."_

 _He leaned his cheek on her wet hair._

" _Merry Christmas, Cath," he whispered._

" _Merry Christmas, Steve."_

* * *

Back in the present, Catherine lifted the compass from its box, turning it over in her hands. Steve shifted to press another kiss to her skin, and both knew they were thinking of another gift exchange just four days earlier.

 _ **December 25, 2015**_

 _After coming inside from looking at the full moon, Steve and Catherine decided to give their gifts to each other._

 _Sitting on their bed, Catherine handed Steve a medium-sized boxed wrapped in gold paper. He was as careful as ever unwrapping it, and his eyes widened when he finally pulled back the paper._

 _In his hands he held a wooden shadowbox filled with mementos from the box of his grandparents' belongings. Photos, medals, their marriage license, all artfully arranged and preserved inside._

 _"This is incredible, Cath," he said, a touch of astonishment in his voice. His fingers traced over the top, not quite touching the glass. He looked at her. "We just went through this stuff last week, when did you find the time . . .?"_

 _She smiled. "I was on a mission. And you know how determined I can be when I'm on a mission."_

 _He nodded. "I do. Thank you," he said genuinely and leaned forward to kiss her._

" _I thought . . . maybe we could hang it in here," she suggested. "Above the dresser?"_

 _He looked over to the place she indicated and nodded._

" _Okay. I like that," he agreed. "A lot."_

 _She smiled._

 _He kissed her again before setting the box carefully on his other side. He turned back to her and handed her a small wrapped gift._

 _She unwrapped the silver paper, and her brow knitted at the familiar black box. She opened it and immediately recognized the compass inside._

 _She looked up at him. "This is . . ."_

" _Yeah," he said. "Here, look."_

 _He took out the compass and turned it over, placing it back in her hand to show her the back, now engraved to read, My True North._

 _She ran her thumb over the words, her mouth opening slightly, and he watched her reaction._

" _The jeweler who did the engraving offered to try and buff out the scratches, but I decided not to," he said. "It's survived a lot . . . and has the scars to prove it."_

 _She looked at him, and he continued with a little shrug, "I've got some scars, too."_

 _Still holding the compass in one hand, she put her other hand on his._

 _His brow furrowed slightly as he spoke quietly. "When you gave me this, you said it would remind me that there's always one person in my corner. And it did." He shook his head. "More times than I can count." He held her gaze. "You_ _ **are**_ _my compass, Catherine. You're my true north."_

 _He breath caught, tears in her eyes._

" _I look at you," he said, "and I . . . I know which way to go." He nodded at the compass. "I want you to have that because . . . we're on this path together. Whichever direction we choose."_

 _She nodded, smiling through her tears. "Together," she said. "Always." She put a hand to his cheek. "I love you."_

 _He covered her hand with the compass. "I love_ you _," he returned, sealing their words with a deep kiss._

Standing together now, Steve covered Catherine's hand holding the compass once again.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, blinking at the tears that had sprung to her eyes, and he raised his eyebrows, his other hand at her waist.

"I don't think I'll ever look at this without getting a little teary," she admitted.

"So long as they're happy tears," he said quietly.

She nodded, then placed the compass carefully back in the box and turned in his arms.

"They are," she assured him. "It's the most beautiful gift."

He tightened his hold on her. "You've always been my guide. Whether you were right next to me or thousands of miles away. My true north. To me, that's the most beautiful gift."

"It's given freely," she said. "And always will be."

His eyes drifted over her face, seeing her feelings there, before returning her gaze. "I love you, Catherine."

She leaned up, whispering, "And I love you," just before their lips met, both pouring the depth of their love and commitment into the heartfelt kiss.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Note:** Many, many thanks to Mari and Sammy for brainstorming gift ideas with me. I'm so thrilled you liked the final piece! And thank you for letting me expand the snowball fight scene first mentioned in the glorious _12 Days of Nonna_ last year.

 **Today's REAL World Ask the Authors Q &A question:**

 **LoveSteveNCatherine asks, Do you All write professionally in reality?**

Thanks very much for the compliment but no, we don't write professionally. We all have other careers and full time jobs. The REAL World is most definitely a labor of love. Love for the characters, love for each other, and love for our readers who we so genuinely appreciate. ~Ilna

 _ **You can submit questions to the REAL World writing team via reviews, email (realmcroll at yahoo dot com), on our Tumblr (mcrollintherealworld dot tumblr dot com), and to Mari on Twitter (at Mari21763).**_


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